3. Above: Three large sizes of the ale with the three-ring logo and three Xs.
4. An animated gif of a rotating carton of Ballantine XXX Ale. (on left, via)
5. An embossed tin sign with Ballantine Ale bottle “faux” bursting through background on right. (See also: History of the Graphic Burst)
6. We recently made rueful mention of “American exceptionalism.” Below: the beer version of that idea—a vintage ad that takes a patriotic pride in the endless hunt for “something better.”
...this hunt by energetic America for something better doesn’t stop with the big things... Among the many “better things,” and one not to be overlooked, is a moderate beverage, an ale in fact, that has been discovered and approved by many. So many that, in the land where the question “Is it better?” is on so many tongues, it has become America’s largest selling ale.
Last year, Medical Marketing and Media’s “Best Over-The-Counter Product Advertisement/Campaign Gold Award went to AbelsonTaylor and Abbott Nutrition for their Ensure “Nutrition in Charge” commercials. (CG animation by Bent Image Lab)
In these commercials, an anthropomorphic bottle of Ensure hectors the other anthropomorphic occupants of the fridge (some of whom are fruits & vegetables —others are other packaged foods) about healthy nutrition. It’s unclear whether the Ensure bottle is playing the role of coach or drill-sergeant. Either way, this anthro-pack is clearly a mesomorphic dominant male.
“Ensure has a unique blend of prebiotic fiber to help promote digestive tract health, and antioxidants (vitamins C and E and selenium) to support the immune system.”
In contrast to Ensure’s muscular bottle, consider the pencil-armed, ectomorphic Aktifit bottle. (3D art direction by Champignon Images ; production by Frame Eleven; modeling, UV’s & texturing by Fabio Quaggiotto; compositing by Mike Frei. Agency: TBWA Switzerland)
Aktifit also makes immunological health claims and employs an anthropomorphic bottle, but its contents are probiotic rather than prebiotic.
“Emmi Aktifit is a probiotic drink made from pasteurized skimmed milk, providing the body with lasting strength from the inside. Clinically tested LGG culture stabilizes intestinal flora, promotes digestion and strengthens the body’s immune defences.”
As a character, the European Aktifit bottle shows less aggression — more passive resistance. Apparently immune to cold season, it happily reclines in a beach chair as it snows. (Is this the cold weather of the fridge?)
(More Ensure commericals and some Aktifit “out takes” after the fold...)
Not sure what year these cigarette packs are from. The truncated typography struck me as a similar package design idea to the recent Turner Duckworth soda can with cropped Diet Coke logo that we were discussing a couple of weeks ago.
Probably not accidental that the portion of the Winston logo that shows here, also happens to spell the word “win.” All of these cigarette packs seem to also come in an italicized version. I have no idea what, if anything, the italic version of this logo might indicate about the product. Other than suggesting Winston’s “winning” forward momentum.
Sato-san’s “eureka” moment was when he noticed how chewing gum is sold in stores. Usually when you see chewing gum in a shop, you will not only see one side — you will see two, the “top” and the side facing you, as they are stacked on the shelf.
Improving on the original design which had a picture and the logo squeezed together on the top side, Sato-san created a new design with a “logo” side and a “picture” side. Now when you see the gum in a store you can clearly see the two different sides of the design, the logo side where the product name and manufacturer are shown, and the picture side, showing the signature penguin illustration.
Satoh also created a number of sculptural artworks based on his penguin branding for Cool Mint. More gum you can ride on: stick of gum as skateboard...
Below the white gum package serves as a screen for projecting packaging graphics with animated penguins. (Still photos below from: dcdomain’s Flickr Photostream)
I’ve been given permission to occasionally publish some posts from Packaging | UQAM—the excellent bilingual packaging blog by Sylvain Allard, director of the Graphic Design Program at L’Université du Québec à Montréal.
The words and reminiscences below are not mine, but his:
It was the late 60s. I was sitting, legs dangling on the shelf of a metallic cart, pushed almost aggressively by my busy mother. We strolled along the aisles zigzagging and following the same weekly routine in this “new type” of grocery called the Supermarket.
We were at that time still lulled into the illusion of postwar that thinking everything was still possible and especially convinced of the infinite resources the planet had. The extraordinary production effort that had nourished World War II had quickly been replaced by a new concept called consumption.
This place had something magical and reassuring as it gathered in one place all the goods now essential to modern life. Each package there was all more useful and functional than the last. It was a new era opened to infinite idealism opportunities.
It is among all these wonders that I saw it for the first time in the distance. It was there: a tiny pink spot in a pile of mundane forms. Despite the distance, I could recognize the shape of its head and the smoothness of its pink body. I pointed it out to my accelerating mom, but she seemed insensitive to the charm of such splendor. Incidentally I seized it on the go with such conviction, that my mother couldn’t refuse it to me and bought it.
I was my first purchase and therefore, this Mr. Bubble bottle became an icon of my childhood. I do not remember what sensation or odor this bubble soap had, but the bottle accompanied my baths for years.
I found out later that my mother was in fact refilling the same bottle with another brand of soap, probably cheaper elsewhere. It didn’t matter much to me. It was the packaging that attracted me first anyway and I was thrilled to find it has a second life as a piggy bank.
1. Above, left: An 1800s Squirrel Bottle from the Moravian potters of Old Salem, North Carolina. (another style with mold on right)
“Of all the bottles produced at Salem, the squirrel form was the most popular, resonant of the general popularity of gray squirrels and flying squirrels as pets. The squirrel bottle, based on the Eastern gray squirrel, was in production as early as 1803. An 1806 pottery inventory lists 96 squirrel bottles. Two types of squirrel-form bottles survive: one that stands erect clasping a nut in its paws, sometimes with a spout in the tail, and the other leans forward and looks upward as if startled or begging.”
2. Above, right: a 1960s Rocky—(the flying squirrel)—Colgate Soaky Shampoo bottle—shown with partner, Bullwinkle, the moose, in photo on right. (Soaky bottle photos from: Vintage Toy & Diecast Collectibles)
In a bottle related lead-in to commercials on the Rocky & Bullwinkle cartoon show, Rocky finds a bottle washed up on the beach:
Rocky: Look, Bullwinkle, a message in a bottle.
Bullwinkle: Fan mail from some flounder?
Rocky: No, this is what I really call a message.
At the end of this conversation, Rocky holds up the message for the viewers at home to see. I couldn’t find an image of that, but what I recollect seeing there was a spiral-shaped scrawl.
3. Above, center photo: this Summer, Scottish microbrewery, Brewdog used taxidermied squirrel bottles (and other taxidermied rodents as well) for their limited edition “The End of History” beer.
On left: Nathan Gibb’s crayon collection, illustrating Crayola’s 1962 name change from “Flesh” to “Peach”; on right: an 8-pack box of Crayola’s “Multicultural Crayons” (both photos are from Nathan Gibb’s Flickr Photostream)
When I was a kid growing up in Florida—(where orange juice & Caucasian-suntans were the dominant norm)—I somehow settled on the orange crayon as the one that most embodied the ideal skin color.
Last Friday’s post about patented crayon packaging included one box,
in which the crayons represented people—(clowns in a circus text). The video below, however, takes the crayons-as-people analogy to its logical conclusion: as a
metaphor for skin color.
Nathan Gibb’s 2003 Crayola Monologues “uses the crayon as a human metaphor for exploring color and identity in the United States” as well as pointing out Crayola’s (and our culture’s) recent history of race-based color names for crayons.
Regarding my own childhood choice of orange as a skin color, I’m thinking that it must have been partly due to a limited pallet of the 8 original colors. If I’d had the color choices contained in the “Multicultural Crayons” box, above, perhaps I would have identified with a different color.
In some films (& televisions shows) the titles and opening credits are conveyed via packaging. In 1, 2 & 6 the packaging is used to highlight certain ethical issues about various products—(tobacco, factory-farmed foods, and munitions). Sometimes the packages which appear in the credits support some specific plot point—(as in 3, 5 and 6, for example.) And sometimes, the point is more metaphorical—(as in in 4’s cardboard cut-out world, for example.)
1. In “Thank You for Smoking”—Jason Reitman’s first film—the title design and typography (by Gareth Smith of Shadowplay Studio) were made to resemble cigarette packaging.
“...Jason Reitman, the film’s director, came to us with the idea of using cigarette package designs for the opening title sequence. He had actually created a rough sample quicktime in which he superimposed basic text titles onto images of cigarette packages that he found on the web. It captured the tone of the title sequence nicely, and gave us a great starting point. We extensively researched cigarette package design and were amazed by its sheer variety. We did start to notice, however, that certain elements were often used: the colors gold and red, bold graphic lines and shapes, and images of heraldry. There were, of course, many exceptions. But if you look broadly at cigarette package design, these elements seem to be what make a cigarette package look like a cigarette package. There's something very serious and regal about most cigarette package design.”
2. In Robert Kenner’s “Food Inc.” (title design and typography by Big Star) are made to resemble food packaging and grocery store signage.
(More opening title sequence packaging, after the fold...)
From Sidel/Predis: an anthropomorphic bottle promotion. We’ve featured a lot of anthro-packs, animated and otherwise. Usually they are targeted to consumers in an effort, I suppose, to “humanize” a product—but here, we have a B2B example of the genre.
On right: the green Eau de Toilette from Avon & Ironman—(as in: Ironman Triathlon®)
...a sleek yet rugged bottle with an organic feel. The top is designed to look like a bike grip, one of the disciplines seen in Ironman, evoking the athleticism that inspires the fragrance. The powerful black-on-black carton features icons of each of the triathlon sports, with a footprint representing running, waves representing swimming, and tire tread representing cycling.
On left: “Levelus Spirit Level Perfume”—a recent packaging concept by Art.Lebedev Studio1. On right: Avon’s 1970s “Everest” after-shave bottle2 also featured this idea.
Both bottles are for mens fragrances, but while the Lebedev project is tongue-in-cheek —“...something an elegant carpenter could never do without”— the Avon bottle was meant to be truly masculine and was part of a whole line of manly, tool-shaped bottles.
I hadn’t realized that the “level” tool is also called a “spirit level”—but, knowing this now, I am not surprised to learn that there is some spirits packaging, based on the same idea. Below is a still from a Level Vodka web-banner ad by John Antoniello of Razorfish.
“Debuting in tandem with a print and broadcast campaign of the same nature, these banners illustrated balance by placing the Level bottle startlingly on its side and using the air bubble within as a balance tool.”
–John Antoniello
See animated versions of the Level Vodka ad: here and here)
And, as is so often the case with ideas like this, it cuts both ways. Whatever the rationale for making a bottle that alludes to a leveling tool—(masculinity, spirit, balance, etc.)—people on occasion, have noticed that a bottle truly can serve the same function. (Hence: the letter to Heloise3, on the right.)
(Another photo of the Avon bottle, a Level Vodka TV spot and some footnoted digressions, after the fold...)
The “deluxe edition” of Arcade Fire’s Neon Bible CD (with its animated, lenticular cover) also included 2 flip books. Packaging design by by Tracy Maurice. (That flip book demonstrated above is a fairly self-referential object—you flip through its real pages to see an animated image of pages flipping.)
What is the deal with flip books? When were they invented? (I wondered.)
The first flip book appeared in September, 1868, when it was patented by John Barnes Linnett under the name kineograph (“moving picture”). They were the first form of animation to employ a linear sequence of images rather than circular (as in the older phenakistoscope)...
Flip books are now largely considered a toy or novelty for children, and were once a common “prize” in cereal and Cracker Jack boxes. However, in addition to their role in the birth of cinema, they have also been an effective promotional tool since their creation for such decidedly adult products as automobiles and cigarettes. They continue to be used in marketing of all kinds...
With that in mind, and coming on the heels of the two previous packaging animation posts, I thought I’d look into the package-related flip book thing. Below is Menomena’s “I Am The Fun Blame Monster!”—also a CD package, but one in which the flip book, itself, is the package since it contains the CD. Designed by band member, Danny Seim “and individually hand-assembled while working at Kinko's.”
(After the fold, an elaborately over-packaged Louis Vuitton Flip book...)
Following up on the animated package thread—a couple of relevant patents. (lenticular/moiré and holographic)
First up, is Yoshi Sekiguchi’s “Process for Producing a Display with Movable Images” from 1994. The patent touches on both “lenticular” and “moiré” techniques. (See also: Kinegrams) His candy bar concept, above, is clearly a precedent for the recent Widex hearing-aid box, featured in our previous post. Sekguchi also envisioned lenticular animation used on other packaging, such as bottles and CD boxes.
(The holographic patent follows, after the fold...)
Here now, is a round-up of various ways and directions that packaging is moving.
1. Animated Holographic Labels 3D Photos, made with laser beams, even static holograms imply movement since your view of the 3D image changes as you move around. The “Splitting Adam” CD—(designed by Canadian firm, Rethink Communications)—however, is an animated hologram, in that changing the angle reveals a morphing transformation from lamb to human to gorilla. (via: Lovely Package)
2. Lenticular Lenses Basically the same technology that was once used in those Cracker Jacks prizes—(that you’re probably too young to remember)—only much improved. The “Changing Lanes” wine label above—(designed by Australian firm, Mash)—uses a lenticular label—also to morph between the faces of wine-makers, Mark Lane & Justin Lane. (via: PopSop)
3. Electroluminescent Labels Unlike holograms and lenticular labels, electroluminescent packaging requires a power source—built-in or otherwise. The “I AM Legend” DVD image (above) is a sample of a new type of printable electroluminescent technology:
Lumoza’s technology for screen printed electronics combines electroluminescent ink with a driver that controls the sequence and timing of the animation. The result is an electroluminescent computer animation that can be printed, just like ink, on all kind of surfaces, for example on a thin plastic foil. And afterwards, folded, rolled up, bended or wrapped...
With its light-emitting screen, Lumoza aims at applications in the advertising and packaging market. The screen comes with a driver chip that also stores the animation data and is typically powered by a micro-battery, depending on the size of the installation. In order to save valuable battery energy, the chip contains a capacitive switch that activates the display when a prospective customer is approaching and deactivates it when he is moving on.
Animator/cartoonist, John Kricfalusi tells an interesting autobiographical story about his dad’s motivation to buy all the “cans without labels” from their supermarket. His “George Liquor” character (above) plays the thrifty father figure. Below, John K tells the story in his own words.
My Dad used to buy cans without labels because they were cheap. 5 and 10 cents.... He had 2 long shelves downstairs filled with them. He thought he knew how to tell what was inside. He had it down to a science. He would show us a can and start deducing.
“See that? Hmmm.....it’s got a gold lid with 2 rings.... Aha!... 3 rings around the perimeter. Now, we’ll do a sound check. I got an ear for this. It’s a gift!”
He’d shake it and listen to its contents. He’d add up all the clues.
“Yep! This is extra meaty Campbell’s beef stew! Now here’s the rule.... No matter what’s in the can, once we open it... we have to eat whatever’s in it...”
It’s telling that, in order to “pitch” his project, Kricfalusi relies both on his skills as a raconteur as well as a cartoonist. Naturally, I dig the packaging-based story line (dramatically highlighting the importance of labels!) I also like the Ren & Stimpy-ish glee that Kricfalusi shows in George Liquor’s face as he demonstrates his deeply flawed method of sussing out the contents of the unlabeled cans.
(More “Cans Without Labels” artwork from John K., after the fold...)
From the Internet Archive: 1961, black & white Kellogg’s commercial with primitive animation effect showing cereal boxes shrinking down to “Variety Pack” size. When I was a kid, Kellogg’s called this package their “Snack-Pak.” Now-a-days “snack pack” might mean packet. I’m not too sure. (An early boxvox post covered the aerodynamic aspects of the “Snack-Pak”: here)
More to add to our anthropomorphic packaging collection: a 1948 television commercial for Rheingold Beer with bottles and cans as musicians in a marching band. (via: The Prelinger Archive)
(Also featuring a “packaging train” for our vehicular packaging collection.)
Upper left: Ballantine’s new electroluminescent label for blended scotch whisky; on right: TyKu’ssake bottle with LED light source; lower left: J&B’s “Mix Light” bottle.
Ballantine’s new “Listen to Your Beat” campaign includes an electroluminescent label with graphic equalizer display. Designed by London-based “The Core,” this label is more evidence of a trend towards animated, self-illuminating liquor labels. Similar to these battery-powered T-shirts, audio references seem to occur frequently in youth-oriented liquor packaging. (The J&B bottle above is another example.)
Battery powered, self-illuminating containers we’ve seen before—(See: NXT on the dielineand this article on Electroluminescent Technology from Packaging Digest)—but it seems to be gaining a particular foothold in the category of liquor packaging.
(One more photo and several videos of electroluminescent labels in action, after the fold...)
Left: Vodka Brings with It ... Degeneracy, laziness, job absence, hooliganism, crime. Right: This new dress becomes me well (bottle switches its label from beer to “juice: natural”)
Left: Don't be in the captivity of a nasty habit Right: Prisoner
Left: Rich inner substance Right: Alcohol — enemy of production
I just happened to lay a hand on a small propaganda pack of anti-alcohol society. We had one in the Perestroika era. Here’s the badge of this society. Later I started to collect anti-alcohol posters and as soon as I started developing websites I decided to put my small collection online....
I think every third poster in my collection is a treasure (also some of posters unfortunately is slapdash).
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